


Red Sister

by Inert_PenMaid



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst and Humor, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Ben Solo - Freeform, Brothels, Dominant Kylo Ren, Eventual Smut, F/M, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo tries to get over Rey, Martyred Echoes, My First Smut, Original Character(s), POV Original Character, Possessive Ben Solo, Reylo - Freeform, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Sexual Tension, Space Brothel, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, Xini, red sister
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-12 22:46:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,352
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20572172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inert_PenMaid/pseuds/Inert_PenMaid
Summary: "His guard had slipped only a handful of times, when he could no longer stifle the afterthought of sex, in corners of the Galaxy that would not incriminate another ordinary face."On the Outer Rim, the prolific practices of vagabonds and warlords take root in the margins of the Galaxy. Xini is a Red Sister, whose trade also knows no law: love. And for the red sorority of prostitutes, easing the agony of lovelorn strangers is no uncommon task; but she has never quite met one like the man who calls himself only Solo.[Rated/Tagged Explicit(ly) for future instalments. Post-TLJ].





	Red Sister

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! This one-shot idea suddenly snowballed into what will be a three-parter! (Oops). 'Red Sister' is inspired by a line from 'Martyred Echoes', my first Reylo one-shot:
> 
> "In his high rank, he had always been careful about who he went to bed with. His guard had slipped only a handful of times, when he could no longer stifle the afterthought of sex, in corners of the Galaxy that would not incriminate another ordinary face."
> 
> NOTE: I *am* a Reylo and this is loosely tagged Reylo but please note that Rey does not physically manifest in this story, although Reylo is a heavily central theme. Please don’t ask me to take down the Reylo tag, especially if you’re not going to read this, as I can’t divulge any more without giving it away for other readers - which is an unfair position to put any artist in. Thanks!
> 
> Sorry for any sacrilegious Star Wars blunders! :(

Part One

He would have gotten away with an archive of sins, were it not for the insubordination of his eyes. The face was sweet, that much was true, but entirely forgettable - although there was irony in the evoked déjà vu of such ordinariness, so commonplace that she could swear to have seen him before, another time, another day. He was the stranger who had bumped shoulders with her at the marketplace; he was the time traveller in a drift-lined old hologram, dead long years before, who looked like the friend of a friend; he was the hesitant man she had made eyes at only yesterday, sitting right there, in the very same alcove of the whorehouse. 

_ Whorehouse, _ hissed something inside of her. _ You aren’t to use that word, Xi-Xi. We forbade you. _

But what else could she call it? Men, women, and all manners of definition-defying denominations came here to cure themselves. Of longing, of hunger...sometimes, of evil. Xini swallowed against the fingerprints on her throat. The bruising had faded months ago, but she could still feel it _ intimately. _Mostly at night, when she was desperate to dream. 

They all arrived and left much the same way, often in a hurry. It was not uncommon for them to wish to remain anonymous. Many came hooded and cloaked - there was a joke amongst her Sisters that this meant the client was ugly, and their red lips would grimace their way to bed. But it was not always so, and not in _ his _ case. 

She had not noticed him at first. The establishment was built to maximise distraction, after all; from the hot humours of incense, the low lights that permitted shapeshifters and liars and cheats on the weekend, to the quiet erogenous corners, far away from the hum of the hexagonal bar, where dark strangers and white-clad Sisters came together. No, she had not noticed him at all.

Until he had peeled back his hood. 

He was human. _ At least, _ said the wry voice inside of her. _ With his clothes on. _

Standing, he might have measured as big as the guards. Not only tall, but broad. She almost wished she had seen him step through the heavily manned vestibule entrance, just so that she could tell if he really was as big as he looked. It was so dark in the alcove he had chosen that the decision was not easy. His lightweight black tunic was fastened high, as were his breeches and boots, and the coarse weave of his cloak was secured under his pulsing throat, almost too tight. There was not an inch of him to be disclosed - even his hands were covered. She found herself staring too intently as he flexed his gloved fingers, and raised her eyes to his face...

Chagrin struck her like a lash. It was not often it happened this way around. 

“_ Xi-Xi _,” purred a familiar voice, sidling to her. The Sister gave her arm an affectionate nudge. “What’s bitten you? You’re stiff as a virgin.”

Xini’s breath hitched. She blinked. “What are you talking about?” 

“I’m saying Overseer Gorann’s going to drag you off the floor if you don’t wipe that ‘roadkill-meets-headlights’ look off your face.”

Xini flicked a nervous eye to the second-floor balcony. High above the rest of them, a hulking shape watched her from inside the aphrodisiac smog of incense, his ringed talons tightening over the baluster. The guttural belch of Overseer Gorann’s oxygen mask could not be mistaken; it kept him immune to the shit they spewed from their ventilation shafts, but it also gave him a menacing look. Someone was talking business into his ear, but she could tell he was not listening. He was more interested by her indiscretion. Xini resisted the urge to flinch. The Overseer had a penchant for punishing weakness. 

“He sent you.” Xini groaned inwardly. Looked away. “_ Criff _.”

“_ Criff _ , indeed.” Clautista muttered. “Listen, kitchen needs girls. Eke’s ill again. _ Someone’s _ missed a monthly to the medic bay.”

They shared a look. Even on the impoverished Outer Rim, their technology was only a generation or so behind - and girls rarely died in childbed anymore. And Gorann had paid a fortune for that droid. It was the only half-decent deed to his name, even if done so to scratch his own back.

“Gorann will be furious when he finds out,” Xini was heartbroken and angry. “Silly girl. Why? _ Why _ would she shirk the medic?”

“Ask me why the madman sings,” her Sister shrugged. “Anyway. I was supposed to look after Eke’s shift tonight, but you can have it if you want to get away from _ ol’ Gangrene _.”

The two snorted. Despite their differences, Clautista was the Sister she was most fond of. They had started this life together, shoehorned beside one another in a production line of skinny waifs willing to inaugurate themselves unto this perverse and lucrative order. _ The girl and the kitten _, they called themselves once. Xini had never seen a feline humanoid before Clautista, but now there was nothing more grounding than the sleeping presence of her whiskered bedfellow at night, when it was not their turn to take a client. 

But the little girl and her kitten were long gone. They had lost their innocence some time ago, now as accustomed to the sheer white cloth and painted crimson mouth of the Red Sister as they were their own skin. 

_ How far you have come, _lamented the voice in her head. 

For a sliver of a moment, Xini almost accepted the offer. But then something stopped her. 

“No, that’s alright. You go.” She cringed beneath a motherly frown. “Stop that, you bitch. I’ll be fine. _ Go _ .” But before her friend could leave, her fingers darted out at the last minute and caught Clautista by the arm. “ _ Sister _?”

The feline swept out of the arch of a passerby and stumbled back into place. “Chaos and bloody fire, Xi-Xi, _ what _?” she hissed.

“Sorry.” Xini drew close. “Look. A new face?”

Clautista unruffled her fur. Her arrow-slit pupils narrowed. “Who, the human?”

“Don’t look for too long. But yes. The _ human _ . Who is _ he _?”

Her stranger was still sitting in the alcove, divulged only by the flickering of a carbon lamp. Xini had always preferred the oil lamps (a real, writhing flame made the sort of appalling shapes that gave her inspiration) but Gorann had slapped her face because he had not asked her opinion...and besides, did she want drunks to burn the place to the ground?

_ Maybe _, she swallowed.

Her dark stranger seemed older than her, she considered, but only by a little. The more sensitive details of his face were open to her now. She explored them with caution, as though she were sinking naked into hot water. 

It was a pale and indeed unremarkable face. But how cruel of his maker to have given him such eyes. In their insubordination they refused to go unnoticed. Part of her wondered what colour they were. And that mouth. Part of her wondered how that pink swell of lip would taste. Her chest thumped. There was still something about him that provoked her. His presence had somehow disturbed the chemistry in the room. In her. 

“Pah. Just another hairless biped,” Clautista’s nose twitched. “The continuum of your species makes as much sense to me as nipples on a male. I’m sure I’ve mentioned that before. But no. I don't recognise him. Almost certainly a new face. I could ask one of the boys on the door -?” 

“_ No _,” Xini wrung her hands. “Don’t involve them.”

“Why? Think he’s trouble?”

She faltered.

Finally, Clautista’s shoulders squared with dread. “Oh, _ Xi-Xi _ ,” the ears flattened. 

“Don't," Xini was embarrassed.

“Careful there, Sister. That’s my advice. It’s 'forbidden'.”

“_Love _ is forbidden. And that’s just as well. I don’t want to love _ him _, Sister. Just what’s in his pocket -”

“Sure. I’ll remind you of that when he goes home to his mate, and I’m fixing your face-paint.” This time it was Clautista who seized her arm. “Where are you going?”

Xini was already wriggling free. “To make some money.”

  


*

**Author's Note:**

> TBC. Please let me know if you're interested in Part Two! I know Xi-Xi is. :)
> 
> Pronunciations if needed: 
> 
> Xini/Xi-Xi = Zee-knee/Zee-Zee
> 
> Clautista = Clow=tee=stah
> 
> Gorann = Gore-Anne
> 
> Eke = Ee-cah


End file.
